


The Stowaway and the Shopkeeper

by PapsNSFW



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Eventual Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg, Mpreg Labor, Multi, Nymphs & Dryads, Post Mpreg, labor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapsNSFW/pseuds/PapsNSFW
Summary: He’d kept the stowaway from Marcus because it would be an anchor. A weight on the nymph’s ankle he’d never be able to get off if he ever wanted to.This baby meant he couldn’t leave.And that meant he’d be all the more desperate to do so. So why even tell him? Take that weight off. Open the cage he’d accidentally created and let the bird fly free._________Cat and Marcus (And eventually Abigail) have a few things to work out.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 13





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I've had a few people on my Twitter (same username) ask for some more Cat and Marcus writing stuff so here's what I've been working on for the past month!
> 
> This takes place before and then after Not According To Plan, so if you haven't read it, I suggest checking it out first!  
> (Some of the timeline has been adjusted since NATP was my first fic with them, and I needed to work out the kinks {pun not intended} in the timeline)  
> Anyways enjoy!!!

Sometimes the world finds ways to drop random friends into the laps of those who aren’t expecting them. 

Cat had found himself, much to his disdain, in the center of a town of nymphs. The fact that they were nymphs was  _ not  _ the problem, although at times he wished it had been humans or druids. 

No. 

It was that they had seen through Cat's carefully crafted facade almost immediately. Not that he was surprised. 

Walking around the town next to a water nymph with a (relatively small but not undetectable) baby bump made his situation a pretty easy conclusion to jump to.

Cat and Marcus had successfully sold off the last of their wares to the fence in Idaho about a month prior and headed back down towards the Rockies. But the winter storms had proven too much for the pair’s horses to withstand, and they had been forced to settle down and wait out the last of the blizzards. 

Cat had been, what would normally be referred to as ‘antsy’. He had hoped that they’d be back at Kill Creek by now, sleeping on nice mattresses with real blankets and good food. Given how the last few days had gone, he would at least be somewhat comfortable whenever this kid decided to make their appearance.

He had never thought that Kill Creek would be considered the height of luxury compared to staying at random inns and camping in old barns but here he was. 

A kick to the bottom of his lung brought him out of his thoughts. His stowaway had gotten plenty active over the past few months, making Cat's job of physically avoiding Marcus even more difficult in the tight confines of a tent.

Luckily after a few horribly cold days, Marcus had surrendered to Cat's constant suggestions of a room at the Inn at the very end of town.

He mindlessly presses a hand to the side of his belly, smiling as it's met with a kick to his palm. 

A wash of cold terror runs through his chest before he whips his head up to check the rest of the room.

Marcus is sleeping on the twin bed to his left, one arm tossed under the pillow and the other curled up against his chest. Cat sighs and lets the relief carry his heart rate back into the normal range.

He can't really remember why he's up, and for a little while he lets the early morning light drip in and onto the book he's reading. 

It's nice until suddenly the muscles in his back and underside of his stomach cramp up.

' _ Oh, shit- _ ' 

It catches him off guard enough that he has to grip at the sheets and tuck his chin to his chest to keep from panicking. 

It only lasts about 30 seconds before it fades, letting him slump back against the headboard to pant quietly. 

It's far stronger and more localized to his belly than the Braxton Hicks he'd been enduring for the past few weeks. 

He rubs a hand over the lightly aching bump before he feels a few angry kicks up high toward his ribs. 

He can't manage to keep his worrying under control enough to avoid mapping out the timeline in his head. 

' _ I clearly missed the first few strong ones- so there's no telling how long it's been going on. It could be just a false alarm again, but I remember feeling kind of horrible last night. _ ' 

A memory of his lower back cramping up while he was sitting in the saloon with Marcus makes his heart leap into his throat. 

He drops his hand away as he hears Marcus stir with a stretch. 

"You ready to head out today? Or do you need a little more time?" Marcus mumbles, the sleepiness lowering his voice half an octave.

Cat's breath catches. 

That was  _ today _ . 

He kicks himself internally for not keeping tabs on the plan he and Marcus had organized two weeks prior.

Cat shrugs and shuts the book with a dulled clapping sound. "I mean I'd hate to get caught up in some cropped up blizzard, but it'd be nice to be back at Kill Creek by tonight." 

He prays that Marcus will suddenly change his mind and want to stay a few more nights. Or suddenly have a strange uncontrollable urge to befriend and stay with a midwife for the next day or so. 

But Marcus just smiles tiredly, making Cat’s head buzz so hard he has to look out the window for a moment. “Guess we’re heading out then, the sun's out so hopefully, we can beat the storms back home.” 

Cat hums in response and reaches down to pull up the maroon colored socks he had somehow kicked off in his sleep. It takes him about 3 tries to bend over his belly enough to even brush his fingers against the cuff of the fabric before he lets out a groan and throws them onto the bed with a huff. 

“You need some help?” Marcus chimes, walking back from the bathroom with a razor in hand. 

Cat rolls his eyes at the idea of needing any kind of assistance and heaves himself up and off the bed. 

“M’fine Marcus-” 

The nymph had been a little cautious after the incident that occurred the morning prior. 

They had started the morning off nicely, made plans while still in bed to go grab some food and see if the bookstore was finally open. 

Marcus had gotten up before him, he had always been a lot better at getting up regardless of how cold the room was and how comfortable it was under the covers. 

When Cat had finally made the aggravating decision to get up, he’d failed to notice the kid had dropped into his hips. It had thrown off his balance more than he’d expected it to and he’d stumbled back into Marcus’s chest. 

It was nice to finally be able to take in a full breath, but the sudden realization that he was going to have to face the end of this situation made him jerk shakily away from the nymph’s gentle hands. 

He apologized profusely, avoiding the worried glances Marcus kept throwing his way for most of the morning. 

“I’m not some elderly man, I should be able to do this myself.” The frustration is more palpable than the god would have preferred, and Marcus huffs and turns back to the small mirror he’s using to shave around his jawline. He could now just barely see his feet when he's standing, which had been the center of a particularly anxiety-filled spiral when he had first realized that fact, but he had refused from day one to require assistance with anything. 

Cat cringes at how sore his back is when he stands, forgetting just how strained everything had been yesterday now that his center of gravity had shifted. 

Of course, Marcus notices the face Cat makes and halts his careful hand for a moment, staring at Cat’s reflection in the mirror. 

“You alright?” Cat jumps slightly, not realizing he’d been observed. A lopsided smile quirks at the corner of his mouth as he shrugs and looks out across the room for a moment. “Yeah, just slept weird. Back’s kinda bothering me.” 

Marcus casts a casual eye across the god. 

Cat watches in muted horror as the nymph’s eyes halt as they reach his torso. 

Much to his chagrin, the baby’s choice to shift had made everything about his belly more pronounced than it had been just a few days ago. Meaning he looked suddenly larger, more rounded out. Even if Marcus hadn’t noticed it yesterday, the nymphs in town had. A few cheerful waves and points to his midsection had sent him turning strawberry pink as his partner had waltzed on without even so much as a questioning look. The women in town had gawked and cooed over him the moment he had stepped into town, and yesterday they had whisked him into a few random shops to ask about his plans and what he was going to name the baby. 

Lots of ‘ _ I’m not sure yet. _ ’ and '  _ I'm hoping to be home before any of that happens _ .’ and other such phrases had carried him through the day. 

Cat lets out a quiet sigh of relief as Marcus’s manners seem to force his eyes back to the task he had set out to do. If he had noticed the change, he wasn’t known for making comments. 

The amount of times Cat had almost slipped up: placed a hand against a kick, or nearly got caught taking advice from other nymphs or had to duck away quickly from some overwhelming smell, was innumerable.

The fact that Marcus hadn’t caught on, or at least formed enough suspicions to ask was something Cat would be both grateful for and terrified of. 

At this point, he was just impressed that he hadn’t let it slip during any of their late-night conversations over maps and regional flora and fauna books when the exhaustion loosened his lips a little more than he was used to.

“Why don’t you just take it easy while I go grab some of the stuff from the Innkeeper-” Marcus stands and stretches his arms over his head with a quiet grunt before walking over to Cat. He places two gentle hands onto Cat’s shoulders and tilts his head, murmuring a quiet  _ 'Jesus did you sleep at all? _ ' as he traces a thumb in an arc over the bag under the god's eye. 

The concern in his eyes makes Cat’s stomach churn so hard he has to turn away. 

“You look really worn out- are you sure you're alright?” 

The god tries his hardest not to let the shame swallow him up. It seems like with every week this kid grows, so does the guilt of it all. 

He was to blame for this whole situation, and every kick and shift was a reminder of that. 

He lets his eyes flee to the cherry wood floorboards as he shrugs in response to Marcus's worry. Any words he puts out into the horribly present space between them would be lies. 

And Marcus is better than anyone at knowing when something's up with his leader. 

"We can wait, if you want-" Marcus murmurs, his eyes driving Cat's heartbeat through the roof. His brain screams at him to lean into Marcus's touch.

Cat scrunches his face for a second, waving the nymph off as kindly as he can as he fights back the urge to beg for them to just stay put for another week. 

"No-  _ no! _ Marcus, I agreed that we'd leave today- I just thought I slept better than I had." He rolls his eyes and puts as much distance as he can between them as a few more kicks to the top of his stomach remind him why he can't hover too close to the nymph's orbit.

He hastily grabs a towel from the hook next to the door and turns back to Marcus. 

He falters. The nymph stands in the center of the room rubbing his forearm and glancing down uncomfortably. 

"I'm sorry-" Cat mumbles, having to bite back the feverish tide of apologies he's dammed up in the back of his head for the last eight months. 

"I just-" He takes a slightly stuttered inhale and sighs, leaning onto the vanity beside him for a moment.

"I really don't wanna be the reason you don't get back home." 

Marcus's brows dig into his nose bridge and he seems to shift from quietly hurt to outwardly frustrated. "Cat, I know you aren't the most open person or anything but-" He raises his hands up for a second to motion to the god before letting them drop with a slap onto the sides of his thighs. 

"What I mean is-" 

He stutters and motions a helpless hand again towards Cat. 

"Listen I just want you to-" He groans and brings a hand up to run down his face, a darker blush growing in his cheeks and ears as his words suddenly fail him. 

He shrugs after a second, looking at the floor. 

"I don't know, just- you don't have to sacrifice everything for the sake of everyone else. If you don't feel well we should just stay a little longer." 

He turns a bashful eye (as bashful as Marcus can get) back to Cat who stares on in cherry red shock.

"I'm fine. Honest." Cat holds a slightly trembling hand to his chest, praying silently that Marcus couldn't see the shakiness from where he stood. 

His back and head throb as the kid gives a painful stretch that makes white stars dance along his vision.

He was most definitely not even close to fine. 

Marcus scoffs and yanks his jacket off of the chair by the desk. 

"You know I'm not normally one to be rude, Cat, but you look like shit." He is suddenly crowding into Cat's personal space to the tune of the god's panicked heartbeat roaring in his ears.

He puts a cool hand onto the hot skin of Cat's forehead, pushing back the black hair to reach it.

"I don't want you getting sick on the trail- or some outcome worse enough to avoid mentioning." A shiver rolls up Cat's spine as Marcus's words fade out with a frown.

"You're kind of hot." 

Cat lets a nervous smile wind up his features. He raises his eyebrows as the insinuating glint in his eye catches Marcus by surprise. "Well, I'm flattered but now's probably not the best time to be flirting, don't you think Mister Rodriguez?" 

Marcus snorts and lets his hand fall to his side as the well-blended mixture of amusement and annoyance carry onto his handsome features. 

"Cat, I'm serious. You feel like you've got a fever."

Cat takes a step backward and jumps when he bumps his hip against the desk chair. 

His pulse is pounding so loud against the inside of his skull that Marcus's soft voice is just barely filtering in.

Every voice in his brain is begging for him to just tell the nymph what's wrong, each thought bouncing against the inside of his skull so hard he's sure it's going to explode.

His entire body is screaming for him to pull Marcus back into bed until he can't sit still any longer. Cat feels like his head is running in slow-motion, everything taking too long to translate through his brain properly. 

Marcus's shape moves strangely, like Cat's watching from a warped window until cool fingers brush too close to his hips and he's jolting backward and into the desk chair again.

"Jesus, Cat-" Marcus yelps as he manages to just barely catch the god by his wrist before he slams into the floor. 

"Okay-" The nymph's tone is much more stern as he helps Cat find his balance and moves to pull his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. 

"I'm sending an attendant up to watch over you until I get back. If they think you're alright then we'll leave."

With that, Marcus shuts the door to the room, ignoring the sound of protest Cat makes.

The attendant is a sweet young woman with a soft face and sharp eyes. 

She knocks politely and makes sure to check for Marcus before wandering over to where Cat lounges in an armchair near the window.

He's barely awake, the mid-morning sun filtering against his skin nicely. 

She quietly seats herself on a footstool across from him and waits. 

For a few minutes, he doesn't seem to even acknowledge her presence. 

Until his eyebrows furrow and his nose crinkles as his hand moves from his leg to the underside of his belly with a grimace. 

She smiles warmly, gently places a hand on his forearm, and patiently waits for it to end. 

"Hi, Sarai" He chokes out after thirty seconds.

"Hi, Cat" She responds with the patient tone of someone who's familiar with who they are speaking to. 

"Why don't we get you in the bath for a little while? It'll help." 

Cat takes a trembling breath and nods, allowing her to help him up and over to the bathroom. 

He's still only wearing his boxers, so he stands unsteadily against the counter until the water's ready. 

"I'm guessing you still haven't told Marcus yet?" She chimes, waving a hand under the surface of the water to check the temperature.

"Most partners would know people in labor run hot or even run fevers during the process."

Cat makes his way over, shucking the boxers onto the floor before allowing her to help him into the water. 

It takes a moment for things to settle enough for the god's liking but eventually he sighs and lets the warmth start to leech into his aching muscles. 

"I haven't." Cat cracks an eye open as he breaks the silence. "Told him, that is."

Sarai smirks and pats the hand he has settled on the top of his stomach.

"You're lucky he's pretty, honey." 

Cat laughs.

"No, no he's not normally this oblivious-" He waves an unsteady hand and sinks a little deeper into the water. 

"I think-" He pauses to try and arrange the explanation into something coherent. 

"He just trusts me too much." 

The attendant quirks an eyebrow, pausing in her attempt to gather a washcloth from her bag.

"I know that makes me sound horrible but-" Cat hurries into the second sentence as the embarrassed heat flushes his face. 

"I don't want to ruin his life with this." He gestures to the bump peeking out of the water slightly. 

"So if I let him come to his own conclusions-" 

"Ones that are wrong." 

" _ Hush- _ then maybe I can save him from the consequences of my fuck up." 

He shifts, the guilt ringing loudly in his head as Sarai gives him a pitied look. 

"He obviously cares about you." She starts, choosing her words carefully as to not break any eggshells. "But, this isn't a one-man mistake, sugar. He deserves to know about it, even if you've waited until the last possible second." 

Cat lets out a tense breath and runs a soaked hand through his hair. "I know, but I'm the one who let this mistake carry on too long in the first place." He cups a gentle hand onto the top of his belly where a kick lands. 

Sarai smiles at Cat's quiet ' _ Calm down, Stowaway, we aren't talking about you.'  _ and places a hand on his shoulder. 

"Speaking of the stowaway, how am I- in good conscience, supposed to let you set off for 6 hours on a trail when you're in labor, Cat?"

The god turns to stare sheepishly at the tiles on the floor. He shrugs and lets his hand roam mindlessly around the expanse of his bump. 

"There's still about two hours between them, from the ones I've timed." 

Sarai rolls her eyes and moves her hand to dunk the washcloth into the soapy water. 

"Yeah, but the one I was here for was 30 seconds long." 

Cat turns a slightly withering gaze back to her. "Is that...bad?" 

Sarai smirks, "Not if you want this baby before nightfall, no." 

Cat grips the tub with tense hands as dread washes over him. Sarai jumps to place a steady hand on his back when his breathing arcs from calm to panicked. Her face drops when she hears the quiet  _ 'Oh god, oh god, oh god-' _ Cat's chanting like a mantra under his breath.

"Hey, easy- it's okay Cat. Everything's fine." 

His grip doesn't relax, so instead, she works some slow circles into the space between his shoulders. 

"I was supposed to have a few more days. I just wanted to be home, at least. Before everything went to shit." Cat says, his breath catching a few times as his chest trembles. Sarai offers another pitied smile. 

"Well, if you've still got a few hours between them, and you're okay with the possibility of having this kid on the trail-" She turns a gleaming eye back to Cat. "Then I can tell Marcus you'll be fine." 

He turns his pinpoint pupils to her before a shaky ' _ Really?'  _ is left in the air. He shifts slightly and sets a hand on his chest, trying to steady himself in any way possible.

She nods and moves to grab a pen and paper from the inside pocket of her bag. "But you have to promise you'll write to tell me you and the baby are okay." He gives a weary smile and a quiet affirmation before leaning his head back against the tub. 

The bath admittedly helped more than he had expected. The tight band of muscles circling the middle of his torso didn't ache the way it had before. Sarai had helped him out and into some new clothes and left to find and assure Marcus that the god was fine.

He had managed to pack up the pair's belongings and hike them out and next to the door for Marcus to grab, with nearly half an hour to spare before the next contraction. 

So when it catches him off guard 15 minutes early, he barely manages to keep his panic under control enough for his breathing to remain steady.

"Come on kid, work with me here." He lets out another shaky breath and wrenches his tense hand from the counter. They aren't incredibly strong, more uncomfortable than anything else, but the fact that the length between them is decreasing steadily makes something in the back of Cat's head ring like church bells.

He has just barely gotten his breathing under control when Marcus's entrance is announced by the jiggling of a key in the lock.

"You cheated." Marcus states, tossing a notepad onto the desk and moving to collect the remnants of their things Cat had failed to see or find in his search. 

Cat rolls his eyes and straightens out, clamping his teeth down to avoid groaning when his back refuses to comply. "And by that you mean…" He circles his hand, motioning for Marcus to explain as he drags the last syllable out. 

"There's no way you're fine, Cat." Marcus sighs, pulling a leather bag from Cat's drawer and carefully handing it to him. 

Cat quirks a smile as he sits down to pull his boots on. "That's not what Sarai said." 

"Just because the nymphs here like you doesn't mean you get to cheat your way into dying on the trail, Cat." Marcus bites out as he squats to reach the safe under the desk. 

Admittedly Cat had known about the safe and had chosen to avoid it. There's no way in hell he'd be able to get himself back up if he got low enough to reach it. And the idea of having to wait for Marcus to help him made his neck and ears burn. 

"Relax Marcus, she said I'd be fine." Cat crosses his arms and leans a hip onto the counter beside him. 

"Yeah well forgive me if I don't really believe her." He grunts out, moving the gang's earnings from the fence into his satchel. 

Cat huffs. They were both stubborn men, and the god would be the last one to admit it but this was where he found himself most comfortable. Bickering with his right hand man instead of just admitting the obvious. 

"I don't know what you want then." It's not as scathing as his normal frustrated tone would typically allow for. Instead it just comes off as tired. 

Marcus stands back up, satchel in hand and turns to look at Cat. His face is set with a determined glare before it seems to waver and flee to the trembling Cat’s trying to rub out of his hand. 

“I  _ want  _ you to be honest, Cat.” Marcus states, emphasizing the ‘want’ as he crosses his arms and shifts his balance so he stands like an angry parent. The god can feel the heat boil into his throat at the very thought of admitting anything. 

Nearly nine months of lies was enough to have created a barrier neither of them could cross, and breaking through that would mean forcing Marcus into the mess Cat had created. 

Cat feels that heat burn a treacherous path up to the space behind his eyes. He pulls his lips tight and traps his breath to try and stop the heat from moving any farther. 

It boils against his eyes until he’s sure tears are balancing on the ledge of his eyelids. 

“Cat...” Marcus’s tone shifts the instant he hears the stuttered breath Cat lets out. His eyebrows knit together and he takes a weary step towards the god. 

Cat whips his head up for a second and takes a deep breath, trying to push back the hormones screaming in his brain. 

‘ _ We are not doing this. _ ’ 

Marcus waits patiently just outside of Cat’s personal space until he seems to finally get a hold of himself. 

“I feel like shit. I’m  _ tired. _ My back fucking  _ hurts _ . And, I just-” He grits his teeth for a moment as closes his eyes against the onslaught of tears trying to re-emerge. 

“I just wanna be home, okay?” He doesn’t want it to be as shaky and defeated as it is, but there’s no taking it back. 

For a moment he’s sure Marcus has left the room, or just disappeared from the space entirely. The silence feels like it's boring an aching hole straight through his temples. The kid stretches again and he struggles to tell whether or not he’s still conscious as small bursts of color pop in and out of the blackness of his shut eyes.

“Okay.” 

Cat breaks his tense face to give Marcus a somewhat shocked look. He brings his eyebrows in and reads his way down the nymph, watching for some sign that he hadn’t just imagined that answer. 

Marcus moves his nervous gaze to some random point in the room and grips the satchel a little tighter. “We can go.” It's barely louder than a whisper. 

Cat feels a strange mixture of relief and terror grow in his chest. 

They could be home before it happened. 

Even if it wasn’t likely. 

Even if he was risking his safety. 

There was a miniscule chance he’d be at Kill Creek. Away from Marcus, and everyone else before this mess came to fruition. 

Cat shivers as a drop of water runs from his hair down the back of his shirt. 

“But we are going to do this my way, since we shouldn’t be doing this at all.” 

Marcus takes another step forward and suddenly a towel is blocking Cat’s vision. 

“It’s freezing outside and you’re sick. No wet hair.” 

Cat laughs, sniffling against the last of the embarrassing emotional display his body had so feverishly demanded from him. “And we are stopping at the general store before we leave. I’m not getting caught up in some storm on the trail with no medical supplies when you collapse from a fever.” 

_ ‘Probably not collapsing from a  _ fever _ but close enough.’ _

He fights a laugh back at that thought and moves to grab some of the lighter bags as Marcus scoops up the saddle wraps with ease. 

The lobby is barren enough that the two manage to pay and get outside before one of the overly friendly nymphs whisks Cat into an inescapable conversation he has to grimace through. 

The town is gorgeous. Evergreens and other coniferous trees line the left side of the road, the snow dusting the road and the rooftops with an almost permanent layer of white power that makes the entire settlement look like a gingerbread village. 

As much as Cat normally stayed away from social settings, it was hard to avoid getting swept into the friendly atmosphere of the locals. 

Even Marcus, the gruffest and surliest man Cat had ever met besides himself had slowly become amicable over their month stint here. 

A few of the brightly colored locals waved as they made their way towards the other end of town. 

The cold bit through Cat’s damp hair in a way he wasn’t used to. Ever since he’d been saddled with his little stowaway, he’d realized his powers had gone on the fritz. Especially his inner and outer temperature control. Naturally gods’ bodies adjusted to whatever the region or situation would require, more weight and body heat for the cold, and less weight and cooler skin for the heat. 

But this kid had sent his body haywire. Suddenly he was shivering when a wind gust hit him wrong, and sweating through undershirts (especially during the early months) when Marcus slept too close. 

Not only was he cold with the natural climate, but the winter storms were absolutely his doing. They weren’t intentional, but only a god of winter could cause such biting and sudden temperature drops like they’d experienced. 

The easing of said storms was simultaneously a blessing and a sign that Cat’s current state was coming to an end soon. 

“Do you wanna come with me or wait out here?” 

Cat startles as his thoughts are interrupted to a finger pressing into his shoulder. “Uh-” He pauses and blinks for a moment, trying to get a steady view of his surroundings. He squints as the white snow reflects the sun just bright enough to blur his vision along with a new ache in his eyes.

“On second thought you’re coming in- I need your satchel’s space for supplies.” Marcus quips, moving to walk up the stairs. Cat swallows the sour taste in his mouth as he tries to process what's happening. 

The bell rings, welcoming the pair as they breach the threshold to the smell of lavender and rosemary. Marcus hands Cat a small piece of paper with a few items scrawled in quick but neat cursive and heads towards the large second segment of the building through the ornately carved wooden door to their right. 

He waits until the door clicks shut and lets out a sigh, heading down the aisle closest to him in search of whatever the nymph saw fit. 

He hears some faint footsteps but can’t really be bothered to find them as the aching in his spine starts to draw his attention away again. 

Cat manages to grab a few of the random items on the list, along with some oatcakes for the horses before he’s caught off guard. 

' _ It’s half an hour too early- _ ’ 

He's using one hand to steady himself on the shelf in front of him and the other to clutch at the underside of his stomach as the muscles pull tight. 

‘ _ Shit, shit, shit! _ ’ 

The shelf he's grappling with groans loudly before splintering under his hand. He can feel someone’s eyes on him and turns to make panicked eye contact with Vidalia, the store owner. 

She’s a round, kind-hearted shopkeeper who’d been his only chosen confidant during his time here. She’s standing behind the counter with a look of quiet concern, her hand frozen on the wood. 

He can feel blush beginning to patch his cheeks as the muscles seem to string even tighter and he can’t avoid leaning more heavily into the shelf with a near-silent gasp. 

“Hello, Miss Vidalia!” Marcus’s cheerful voice sends Cat’s body into a panic. Vidalia startles and makes one more moment of knowing eye contact before turning to the nymph. 

He can only watch in terror as Marcus starts to scan the room for the god. 

“Oh sweetie, you’re gonna need bandages and alcohol if you’re checking all the boxes.” Vidalia’s voice jumps up in volume when his sweep gets too close to the aisle the god’s panting in. 

Marcus turns back to her and Cat breathes a sigh of relief before finally being able to straighten himself back out. “Oh, uh yeah I’ll go grab some in a second- ''

He furrows his eyebrows in worry and tilts his head as he starts to turn back to the rest of the store. “Have you seen Cat? He’s supposed to be grabbing the second half of the supplies.” 

Vidalia doesn’t let her eyes wander, instead, she nods and gestures vaguely to the exit. “He bought what he needed and asked me to tell you he was waiting outside.” 

Marcus shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “Of course he did. Thanks, Vidalia, I’ll grab the bandages and alcohol real quick.” He steps back through the door in unknowingly tense silence.

“Oh thank god.” Cat sighs into his hand and races to follow muscle memory around the store, grabbing his usual items and whatever Marcus had decided was necessary. 

As quickly as his sore body will allow, he makes his way to the counter and dumps the items onto it. 

“Oh, honey you’re not going to need that lotion.” Vidalia’s voice breaks through his pain-addled trance enough to draw him back into the present. She brings a bright pink hand up to lift the bottle of lotion he hadn’t even thought about grabbing from the shelf. She’d suggested it to him when they’d first gotten there, it apparently helped prevent stretch marks, which he had warmly accepted. 

A shot of adrenaline races up his spine and into his heart. “A-any reason why, Miss Vidalia?” He grips the strap of his satchel as she walks around the counter. 

She gestures to his belly and he nods, moving his jacket out of the way for her. 

Vidalia places two warm hands on the sides of his stomach, glancing at him through a bemused brow. 

“When did the little stowaway drop?” His chest clenches. 

“Sometime early yesterday morning.” 

She offers a look of pity at his defeated tone and takes a step back to lean an elbow onto the counter. “And how far apart are the contractions?” She arches an eyebrow as he opens his mouth to protest. He doesn’t get farther than ‘ _ What? I’m not- _ ’ before she holds up a hand. His shoulders tremble slightly as he feels that familiar dread begin icing its way up his arms. 

“I know someone in labor when I see it, sweetheart.” He lets out a tense breath and leans onto the counter. Cat blinks through a strange moment of relief as Vidalia smiles kindly. 

It's horrifying to admit, but Cat would give anything to have someone in his corner right now. He  _ wants _ that someone to be Marcus, but he’ll settle for Vidalia for the time being. 

“How long?” She waits until his eyes wander back towards her before she asks, nodding her head to his belly with a quirked eyebrow. He shifts to lean both elbows on the counter as his back screams for relief. He puts his head in his hands for a moment and finally mutters out, “Less than an hour and a half between ‘em.” 

Vidalia sighs and settles in next to him, leaning over to put a hand on his back. 

“You’ll be lucky to make it to the midwife in the next town over, let alone the  _ Rockies _ before that baby gets here, love.” 

Cat lets out a shaky breath and nods. He knows this’ll be a long shot if he makes it at all. That cold dread is starting to make his hands and arms shake slightly as Vidalia chuckles and leans closer.

“I suggest you give up the ghost and tell Marcus. Y’all might be able to still make it to her before nightfall.” Cat grits his teeth as his stomach lurches hard enough that he’s praying Vidalia has a trash can nearby. He swallows down the nausea and shakes his head. 

“No-” He bites it out quickly and ducks his head back down as a new wave hits him. Vidalia wordlessly moves a small bin into the space between his feet and the front of the counter. 

“I  _ can’t _ drag him into this-” He slams a balled fist against the countertop and lets out a shaky sigh when the wood splinters beneath the digits. She casts a worried look as he mutters a quiet ' _ I'll replace it, sorry.'  _ He rocks back and forth for a moment trying to get his body to just settle down in any way he can think of. 

“Easy, honey.” Vidalia says, turning her head to the door Marcus had walked through. 

“I know you feel like this is the only solution, and I’m in no place to stop you-” She leans down so he can see her in his periphery. “But you’re gonna stress this baby out with the way you’re going about it.” 

He gives her a terrified look that has her huffing and ruffling his hair back. “You being anxious is going to prolong this whole ordeal.  _ Which _ -” She emphasizes the last word when Cat gets his hopes up. 

“Is extremely stressful for the both of you.” She nods a head down to his stomach which he’s got one arm wrapped protectively around. “This isn’t exactly easy for Stowaway either.” The god trembles again leaning further towards the bin at his feet.

He closes his eyes and lets his head fall between his shoulders. “I don’t know how to fix this.” 

Vidalia laughs. "There's nothing to fix, sugar." 

She rubs his back as he mutters a quiet ' _ Ugh, Jesus _ ' and trembles harder. 

He takes a deep breath, blowing out as he seems to push back some of the nausea. 

"You need to relax. Let things move along at whatever pace is natural. Instead of fighting it every step of the way."

He gives her a withering look that has her casting a pitied glance across him again. 

He tenses slightly when Marcus's voice drifts through the door. "Miss Vidalia? I can't manage to find bandages, could you maybe point me in the right direction?" 

He gives his belly a weary smile when the kid seems to hear Marcus and kicks out in excitement. 

"Well he may not want you in the end, but you sure do like him don't you?" Cat murmurs, resting a hand at the top of the dome where the most activity is. 

Vidalia gives him another pitied look, making Cat's face flush an even deeper pink.

"I know, I know.  _ 'You should just tell him, Cat. What's the worst that could happen?'  _ I could be having this baby alone." 

Vidalia huffs, placing a quick hand on his. "Honey, you're already doing that.  _ Tell  _ him. Before things get outta hand." 

With that, he's left to try and tackle back the last of the nausea and aches before moving as quietly as he can through the front door. 

There's a rocking chair amongst the seating options outside that draws him so intensely that he can't resist it this time. He'd eyed it during every visit that lasted too long, but had sworn to never be caught in it. 

Today was already feeling like it was going to be one full of exceptions so he found himself gently settling into it. 

The sun's moving its way steadily up towards the center, basking the entire porch in the midmorning light. For a moment he's just thankful for the warmth since buttoning his coat up all the way felt far too restrictive. 

It takes a few minutes for the stowaway to settle down after hearing Marcus, not that he wasn't used to a flurry of activity every time the nymph reappeared. 

For all the people they had met along the way, Marcus has been the only voice the kid acknowledged. Even if the nymph was just reading beside Cat, his stowaway was content to test the god's reaction speed with a kick or four in Marcus's direction. 

At least he and his kid had a shared affinity for his right-hand man, though it came as no surprise. 

He's sure in some prenatal parenting book somewhere it confirms his suspicion of in-utero babies recognizing their parents' voices and movements. 

His stowaway just so happened to prove it on the first try, attempting to out Cat with its first-ever kick. The god had nearly jumped from the bed when he woke up to kicks under Marcus's hand. 

Luckily the nymph had been fast asleep, otherwise, this trip would have ended a lot differently. 

A gust of wind sends a chill down his spine that has him curling a little deeper into his jacket. 

He can feel himself slowly falling into a resting heart rate, his body most certainly desperate to save its energy for what he's not willing to think about. He can't seem to find the strength to fight off the embrace of sleep, his hand farthest from the door tucked onto the side of his belly in some unconscious comforting technique. 

He jumps when a hand brushes his shoulder lightly. 

"Easy, Cat." Marcus says, squatting so he's next to the chair. Cat can feel the familiar heat burning up his neck in patches, lighting his face up like a campfire in the summer. "You fell asleep." Cat stretches his legs out in front of him with a still sleepy sigh, rolling his ankles to crack some of the stiffness out of them. "Couldn't have been too long, sun's in the same spot." His face grows hotter at how low and tired his voice sounds. 

Marcus's eyebrows are knitted together, watching Cat quietly reacquaint himself with the waking world. 

The god turns with pink cheeks to look at the nymph. "What?" 

Marcus's eyes dart over him again before he takes a tentative breath. "Do you still feel sick?" Cat blinks, taking a mental inventory of all the random aches and pains. He shrugs, rolling his neck with an accompanying popping sound. 

"I'm okay, why?" 

Marcus continues to stare at the god, his face showing a lot more concern than either of them is used to. "A-are you  _ hurt _ or something?" Cat's lopsided smile seems to do nothing to ease the nymph's worry. 

"I'm fine, Marcus- what's wrong?" Marcus's eyes dart from point to point on the god, taking his own inventory of whatever he can see visually.

"Sorry, you just- you fell  _ asleep _ Cat."

Cat can't fight the snort of laughter.

"This chair is very effective." 

Marcus doesn't seem to think it's as humorous as the tired god does. The nymph shifts forward and sets a nervous hand on Cat's thigh. "Hey, I'm being serious, Cat." His brows furrow down even farther and Cat's certain the scar on his brow bone is going to bend into an arch. 

"When have you  _ ever _ just fallen asleep?" Cat's face flushes slightly before his eyes flee to the surrounding view of the town. "I…" He shifts uncomfortably. 

Marcus is right and he knows it. Cat can barely settle down long enough to sleep after a hard day's work. He doesn't do  _ naps  _ or even just laying down on bad days. 

The nymph is searching for anything amiss among the god's reaction. He gives a panicked ghost of a smile, this really was taking a lot more out of him than he'd expected. "I don't know, the sun was nice and I didn't sleep great…" He lets the rest of his sentence fade into the heavy silence. Marcus's eyes are still desperately searching for a wound he missed or a sudden onset of some mysterious god-killing illness that could be making Cat act like this. 

The burning heat of the nymph's eyes against his face is suddenly too much for Cat to handle. He turns away for a moment, letting the winter air cool his freckled skin. His eyelids are still heavy enough that he knows he can't be left alone unless he's planning on waking up in active labor a few hours from now. 

Marcus is leaning over him before he can register it. It catches him off guard and he fights the surprised squeak pooling in the back of his throat. 

Two hands meet him in quick succession, the first to his forehead, which at this point he's familiarized himself with. 

But there's no way Marcus is thinking about where he's put the second. The god had made it clear, maybe not verbally but at least physically, that Marcus wasn't to go near it at all.

Cat contemplates letting it remain there, resting on the crest of his stomach. 

Some instinctual comfort in having a trustworthy person so close makes his brain sing with whatever happiness hormone it chooses to spread through his veins. 

Then Marcus speaks. Something quiet and mostly to himself, "Still feverish-" 

_ 'Dammit' _

The first kick from Stowaway is luckily on the opposite side, closer to where Marcus's actual voice is coming from. Then the nymph's other hand shifts enough that Cat's sure the kid is aware of it now. 

It's now a game of reaction times and adrenaline.

"What are you-"

That's all Marcus manages to get out before he's cut off. The hand Cat's placed on the nymph's wrist is tight enough to pull a surprised groan through his teeth. Cat can barely keep track of what he's doing. 

  
  


Some strange rush of instincts is keeping him frozen there, a hand on Marcus's wrist and the other wrapped in the collar of his coat. Whatever alarm bells in his head he has, they are all going off at once. 

_ Danger _ . 

It's all he can think, it repeats in various volumes in his ears until his vision swims.

He's breathing too heavy. His pulse is too high. 

He can see the steel-blue glow flickering against his cheeks and his powers seem to be just as unsure of their necessity as he is right now. 

"Cat-" Marcus manages to choke out. The nymph fights against him for a moment, trying to grapple with the god for purchase on the tight grip he's got. 

Something in his head screams to protect himself against his attacker and he uses all of his strength not to snap Marcus's wrist in half.

"S-stop moving Marcus-" Cat all but yells at him. 

The nymph stops immediately, his terrified eyes moving back to Cat's. The god's breathing through his nose, his shoulders heaving slightly as he fights every instinct in his body. 

"Why are you in Second stage- Cat? I wasn't doing anything-" 

Cat grits his teeth, his pulse bordering on a speed that cannot be good for either him nor the stowaway in his lap.

The stage Marcus references is one Cat hates more than anything else. The figurative panic button on a Celestial being, no reason can get through to them when they are like this. It forces them into a fight or flight state until the threat has passed. Marcus and the rest of the gang had seen it in action a few too many times for his and Sal's liking but this was a new development for both of the parties involved. 

"Sh-shut up Marcus. Stop _ talking _ !" Marcus gapes at the urgency and stutter in Cat's voice and relaxes in the god's ever-tightening grip.

"You've gotta breathe." Marcus shifts again. He scrunches his face, closing his eyes. 

" _ Please _ stop moving- I'm gonna  _ hurt _ you-  _ stop- _ " Cat's voice tambers in a pitch he hasn't heard from himself since he was decades younger. 

He's running through a silent rhetoric in his head. 

_ The kid's fine. You're fine. Marcus is fine. Everything's fine. _

He repeats it with every inhale.

He lets the words settle in his head and focuses on loosening the grip on Marcus's wrist. He grunts when the muscles in his hand creak with the strain.

"I'm sorry- I don't know-" He is trying his hardest to steady his thoughts, not wanting to rock the boat any harder than he already has. 

There's already a slightly aggravated tinge to the skin on Marcus's wrist. 

"It's okay, Cat-" Marcus steadies. He's speaking like he's working with a cornered animal, not that a god in Second stage wouldn't resemble one. 

"I'm so sorry-" He chokes out, finally as he wrenches the tense hand off the nymph's wrist. Marcus doesn't dare move yet. 

Cat and still feel the random flickering energy dancing along his skin. It's a lot less powerful than it normally would be, but nothing's been potent since the kid came along. 

The stowaway kicks at his ribs, angry at the sudden spike in stress in Cat's body. 

He closes his eyes again, wincing at the aching in the joints in his hand. 

The hand wrapped around Marcus's jacket relaxes. He smoothes the fabric down with a careful breath. The feeling is slowly moving back through his body, the strange numbness of the second stage filtering out like pins and needles. 

He cracks one eye open first, still nervous that he's brutalized the nymph in the few seconds he was trying to calm himself. 

Marcus stares back, the concern in his face making Cat's stomach drop. "Is your wrist-" He moves, as calmly as he can to gently examine the skin. 

The bones are intact, from the lack of flinching there's no internal hemorrhaging or torn ligaments. 

"Anywhere else?" He asks the pink in his cheeks returning with a vengeance as he discovers Marcus's eyes haven't moved from him. 

His right-hand man shakes his head.

Cat squirms slightly under the gaze, his stomach churning as his nerves seem to have finally caught up with. 

"I'm sorry." He says again, waiting for a change in Marcus's features. Anger, betrayal. Something, _anything._   
  


His stomach lurches again and heat is pouring itself up his chest and throat. 

‘ _ Shit. _ ’

He jolts up, faster than his body has allowed in a while, knocking Marcus off his feet with a ‘ _ thunk _ ’ as he hits the floorboards.

  
“Sorry, I need to-'' Cat manages to mumble as he wheels forward and sharply towards the fencing surrounding the porch. He ignores Marcus’s ‘ _ Where are you going? _ ’ and barely manages to grip his trembling hands onto the rail before he’s heaving his stomach contents onto the alley floor to the side of the shop. 

  
“Jesus, Cat!” Marcus says, scrambling to keep the god from leaning too far forward. The hand on his back is the only thing keeping him steady as he dry heaves, gasping between the involuntary action until the feeling finally passes.    
“Sorry.” He mutters, arms and hands trembling violently with the dizziness of the last few minutes.    
  
“You okay?” Marcus asks, his hand still present, pressed against the space between the god's shoulder blades. Cat nods, his face scrunched slightly as he tries to fight off the tension in his chest. “Do you wanna sit down?” The god shakes his head. He doesn’t have time to sit any longer than he already has. The kid shifts, stretching in the tight quarters hard enough that his vision sparks with white spots.    
“I can sit when we get home.” His voice is hoarse but Marcus understands it nonetheless. 

  
Marcus steps back to help the god straighten out, running a stressed hand along his jaw and onto the back of his neck before sighing.

“You still want to head back?”    
Cat nods again, his breath catching slightly at the mere idea of staying here. Marcus lets the god put an unsteady hand on his forearm, his worried gaze still ever-present in the heavy silence surrounding the pair.    
“I spoke with Miss Vidalia as I was leaving.” Cat’s heartbeat jumps for a moment.    
  


‘ _ She wouldn’t. _ ’ He assures himself mentally. 

Marcus wouldn't have been amicable or even came to meet him outside the shop. He would have rolled his eyes and left town without the god. Told the group they had split up a ways back to cover more ground, or some excuse and just resumed life as usual. He would have left him like he eventually will once he knows about this baby. 

“She showed me a deer path that would cut our travel time by three hours.”    
Cat looks up in surprise.    
“That’s more than half.” The ghost of a smile crosses Marcus’s handsome features as he nods in confirmation. “Exactly. We’d be back right before nightfall.”    
Cat can’t help the relieved, shaky laugh he lets out, ducking his head down slightly as over-tired tears threaten to overtake him. 

  
This could actually  _ work _ . He could be back and somewhere secluded before his stowaway made their appearance.    
  
“But- before you make any decisions you should know it’s not going to be an easy path to follow,” Marcus says, using his hand to tilt Cat’s chin up so they are making eye contact.    
“Vidalia specifically instructed me to be careful even offering it to you. It’s not a very safe path, and in her words ‘For your partner out there, it's not going to be easy to travel through it.’ I’m still kind of fuzzy on why.”   
  
He pauses, waiting for Cat to say something. The god squirms under his stare and eventually shrugs. “She asked me if I was feeling alright earlier. I tried to tell her I was fine but she wasn’t having any of it.”    
It doesn’t satisfy the nymph in the slightest but he drops it, moving instead to pull a flask from his satchel.    
“I’ll have to run back in and grab some more, but you should probably drink something.”    
Cat eyes it wearily. He doesn’t move to take it until the nymph sighs and uncaps it. “It’s  _ water _ , Cat. Not poison.”    
  


It's not exactly poison that Cat’s worried about, more the fact that the flask he's grabbing with sweaty palms is normally filled with whiskey or whatever spirit the nymph could get his hands on.

Helpful for when someone was in a pinch and needed to cauterize a wound, but not exactly great for a pregnant person to be ingesting. 

He'd barely managed to scrape by on the excuse that his lack of alcohol consumption was because it wasn't helping with the weight gain. But that excuse had started on thin ice that only thinned the farther along Cat got. 

By now it was painfully obvious that the drinking wasn't the source of the problem.

And he'd nearly gotten caught a few times after denying drinks at saloons, some human or other creature laughing a ' _ what're you  _ expectin' _ or something? _ ' loud enough to make Cat's face flush. Marcus would normally just raise an eyebrow and call the patron an asshole before going back about his business. 

By this point, his tolerance would be shit regardless, so it wasn't completely unreasonable that he feigned disinterest. With the 8 months and 3 weeks he's had, he's due a drink or two. 

Marcus returns with another container of water and nods towards the stairs, only pausing long enough for the god to catch up before setting off towards the stables. 

“You’re certain you wanna do this? We can still grab a room back at the inn, or move to the next town over if you still wanna get home by tomorrow.” 

He can barely keep himself from accepting the second half of the offer. 

The pair had stopped at the next town over before they’d moved on towards Idaho, nearly 4 months ago. 

Cat had just barely started showing at that point and had taken the liberty of speaking in hushed tones with the midwife about how the process would work. 

It had taken a few minutes of thorough questioning from the god before she realized he was asking for himself and not on behalf of a wife or sister. The scarlet haired woman had tossed out a dismissive “Well bring her in so we can discuss it, I can’t give advice on someone I can’t examine.” 

Cat had flinched slightly, giving her a nervously pained look before unbuttoning the front of his coat enough that she could see the very beginnings of a baby bump among the cushy fabric. She had dropped the theoretical tone immediately and began actually giving real weeks to reference and solid advice about how to make sure the kid was doing okay. 

She knew his name and how far along he was and most importantly his 'unusual’ situation (though it had taken a mild explanation and reveal of his celestial nature for her to understand) by the time he had left. The young woman had suggested he try to make it back to her when he was around 8 months. He was officially 3 weeks past when she’d politely asked him to come back, and if he stumbled into her office now, he’s sure she’d be somewhat aggravated with him. 

Cat shakes his head. “No, I’d rather be…  _ sick _ at home than here or the next town over.” Marcus nods, forcing himself to try and at least understand the stubbornness the god’s conveying. 

“Okay, well I’ve gotta load our things into the cart, you okay to go grab the horses?” 

The god shrugs and begins the walk to the stables without another word. He can barely think, his head trying to sink him into the past to keep the pain of the present from breaking him down. 

It takes a majority of his brainpower to keep himself focused on the task he’d set out to complete. 

A huff from somewhere to his right grabs his attention enough to snap him into the present. Cat can't fight the grin that forms when he sees the horse waiting for him. 

"Hey Mistletoe, how ya doin' boy?" The painted horse flicks an ear in annoyance and he laughs. "I know, I know. It's been a while."    
  


He’s had this horse for over 3 years, raised it from a foal after his mother, his previous steed, had passed. Keeping within the lineage wasn’t something he normally cared about, but he’d loved the wobbly little thing the second he’d seen it. 

Mistletoe, as Abigail had named the little foal when it had arrived the week before Christmas, was- for the most part- too smart for his own good. Which had made him a perfect fit for the god.    
“You ready to go home?” The horse leans its head and neck past the barn door for a moment, eyeing him before huffing again. Cat rolls his eyes and lets the smile build a little more. “I’ve got a few oatcakes in my saddle bag that say otherwise.” 

He pulls the heavy stable door open.   
Which, admittedly, wasn't the best choice. 

A sudden tenseness in his back has him bending over with a gasp. He grits his teeth to keep the yell at bay as his entire midsection pulls so tight he's sure he's going to tear something. He can barely remember to time the length before the contraction’s passed. Something is nudging the side of his face as he fights to get air into his tense lungs.   
  


The god raises a trembling hand to meet Mistletoe's nose, smiling despite everything.    
“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook ya bud.” He just can’t seem to catch a break today.

He tucks a hand onto the stable post and jumps when his horse nudges him the rest of the way up.    
‘ _ It's been a little over 45 minutes since the last one… _ Shit _ this is moving fast. _ ’ He gives the horse a weary look when it gently bumps the underside of his belly with its nose bridge. The kid gives a slightly jerky kick to the bottom of his ribs in response. 

He wasn’t entirely sure if Mistletoe had noticed the change before or after he had. A few random moments of skittering away from the action during the first month was somewhat suspect. But regardless of when, the horse had chosen to be much more careful, or  _ considerate _ , if one would even call it that.    
“Yeah. I know.” He sighs, leaning slightly on the horse’s side for a moment before beginning the grueling task of settling the saddle blanket, saddle, and saddlebags onto the steed.    
By the time he’s got both horses set and ready to leave, he’s out of breath, gripping at the stitch in his side as he leads them both out to where Marcus stands.    
The nymph meets him halfway, startling the god with the quickness of his step. “What’s wrong?” Marcus isn’t getting too close, but he’s staring at the hand Cat’s pressing into his side.    
“Just outta breath, Marcus relax.” He pants, forcing the words out fast so he can resume his fruitless attempt to catch his breath and keep his dignity intact at the same time.    
The nymph lets out a bated breath and visibly relaxes, untensing his shoulders in time with the heat that's pooling into Cat’s face. 

He shouldn’t  _ want  _ Marcus to care as much as he does. He  _ shouldn _ ' _ t  _ and yet it sends a weird pull in his chest that he searches for every chance he gets around the nymph. 

"All right then." Marcus sets his hands on his hips, nodding to the last of the bags that have finally been tucked away as the god recovered.

He turns to where Cat's been leaning against the wall and gives a small smile, still anxious in nature. 

"You ready?"


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know you probably hate me but-" He can't tear his eyes away for long but he manages, casting them up to Marcus. "I just hope you'll like him. Regardless of what I did."   
> Marcus's shoulders tense with the god's words. There's more hurt in his eyes than Cat's ever seen and it rattles him to his core.

His back aches. It's quiet, the light of the morning coating the normally black space behind his eyelids in an orangey-pink. He winces, shifting to try and find a better position that won't prolong that aching. He's biting back a quiet groan as everything he tries to move feels heavy and slow.

He can hear birds chirping in the distance, the quiet breeze sending the wind chimes sparkling in the air like a song of protection.

‘ _ Something’s missing- _ ’ Suddenly he doesn’t care what aches or why. 

He jolts upright, throwing familiar blankets off his chest and slapping sleep-heavy hands onto his thighs. His heart pounds against his sternum. 

_ 'Missing.'  _

It's not so much a thought as it is an instinct. He moves to press a hand onto the side of his belly only to miss it entirely. He looks down, panickedly patting his torso in search of the proof of the last nearly 9 months. 

Cat can barely keep his terrified gasps at bay, the pure adrenaline feeling like he's shooting ice water into his veins. 

The god just barely manages to get himself up and out of bed, relying heavily on the bedpost to remain upright. 

"What's happening-" He mumbles, the rest cut off by another bout of panic accelerating his heart rate. 

He can't seem to grip enough reality to hold himself upright, his brain tumbling into one-word sentences. 

' _ Wrong. _ ' 

Something's  _ wrong _ . He just can't figure it out and nothing's working right. 

Why does his whole body just  _ ache _ ? 

He grits his teeth and takes a few steps towards the door before a knock startles him. He squints against the genuine daylight bleeding through the door as it swings open. 

"Hey- Get back in bed, Cat." It takes a moment for the calm words to settle in his head. There is a hand wrapping itself gently around his bicep, suddenly leading him back towards the bed. 

The god can't seem to figure out what to ask, or if he's even asking anything in general. 

"It's only been a couple hours, you need to lay back down." 

_ 'Marcus _ .'

His voice is stern, not overbearing or angry, just stern. Enough so that Cat listens. Allowing the nymph to help him climb back in and under the covers. He's not entirely sure what's off, or what Marcus is murmuring to him but he finds that he can't keep his eyes open any longer. 

The next time he wakes, it's early evening. The clattering of metal dishes and the cheerfully loud banter of the gang members clues Cat in to the fact that it's most likely dinner time. 

Moving still elicits an aching from every major muscle group, but not as potently so as the last time he'd tried to. 

He carefully props himself against the headboard, gazing into the middle distance as he tries to recall the events that his sleep-addled brain had silenced. 

There's another knock on the door. Marcus enters, a bowl of something hot enough to steam in one hand and-

_ 'Oh-' _

He lets out a quiet sigh of relief and settles into the headboard, the strange anxious weight on his chest disappearing. 

"I know you're not very hungry but, I thought it'd be worth a shot to just check." Cat waves the bowl off without a second thought. 

Instead, he yanks the nymph down by the sleeves until he's seated. 

With tired arms, Cat reaches forward and scoops the newborn from him. 

The baby makes a few sleepy noises before cracking his eyes open, revealing steel blue that matches the god's. 

"Hi…" He can't help the beaming smile on his face as the little nymph hooks a chubby hand around his pointer finger. 

He lets out a huffy laugh, surprised at just how perfect the newborn is. Those steel blue eyes observing him quietly, half-lidded as the comfort of being so close to Cat begins to lull the baby back to sleep. 

"I know you probably hate me but-" He can't tear his eyes away for long but he manages, casting them up to Marcus. "I just hope you'll like him. Regardless of what I did." 

Marcus's shoulders tense with the god's words. There's more hurt in his eyes than Cat's ever seen and it rattles him to his core. 

He looks back down, avoiding the burning stare he can feel heating his face. 

"Cat." 

He can feel a hesitant hand press against his arm. 

The god shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment as the exhaustion threatens to force tears. 

"If you're gonna yell, can I at least have Abs take him?" His confidence seems to have flown out the window. Whatever strong tone his voice had carried nine months ago, it had disappeared with the appearance of the stowaway sleeping peacefully in his arms. 

" _ Please _ just look at me for a second." 

  
It was really his own fault for expecting his kid to follow any kind of schedule. He should have planned for other situations much better than he had. He could be holed up in some inn miles from here, content in the fact that he had successfully avoided ruining Marcus’s life. 

He'd be alone, but he'd be fine, they all would be. 

Cat takes a nervous breath and meets Marcus's eyes. He's unconsciously grimacing, waiting for the inevitable anger and rejection he  _ knows _ is coming. 

Marcus's face echoes hurt in a way that sends pangs through Cat's chest. 

The nymph squeezes the hand he's set onto the god's arm. Gently, no fire or anger behind the action. He can feel his heartbeat pounding through his head, shaking his hands with every beat. 

"How could you do this?"

Cat takes a shuddering breath and closes his eyes. He grips the blanket with his free hand, desperately trying to keep the heat behind his eyes from turning into full-blown tears. 

  
“By the time I had figured it out, we were leaving for Idaho and-” 

  
Marcus's eyes go wide. He sets the bowl down as Cat continues his hasty explanation before the nymph holds up a hand. 

  
“Woah, woah, woah- hold on Cat-” There’s a worried smile on his face as he scoots himself closer. “I didn’t mean in general.”    
The nymph brings his other hand to the baby in the god’s arm, offering a finger for the newborn to grasp at. 

  
“How could you do this to yourself?”

It's barely above a whisper. 

  
Cat tilts his head up and inhales through his nose. The burning behind his eyes gets the better of him after a few seconds, and he gives up the ghost.    
Marcus raises his eyebrows when the god tilts his head back down but doesn’t stop. Instead, he hunches forward and brings a hand up to swipe fruitlessly at his eyes.

Muttering a quiet ‘ _ Shit _ ’ when the tears don’t stop. 

He laughs but it morphs into more of a sob, frustrated at how fast and aggressive they are. He can feel the heat pooling in his cheeks as he tries the shield himself from the nymph’s view.    
“I mean, did- did you think you’d be better off by yourself? O-or did you not  _ want _ me to be there?” Marcus lets the end of his sentence hang in the air, thousands of unasked questions pattering like rain against a window. 

Cat shakes his head, his face still hidden from the nymph. He lets out a trembling sigh and tries to speak through the unsteadiness the tears have brought along.    
  


“I couldn’t just drag you into my mess.” 

He leaves his hand frozen over his face, the heel of his palm pressed against his eye. 

  
Marcus doesn’t respond. 

He’s so still that Cat’s worried he’s gotten trapped in some weird frozen pocket of time until he forces himself to look up just to check. 

The nymph’s eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth pulled in a pained grimace as his ocean blue eyes search the god for something. Cat watches his right-hand man’s shoulders move up and down as what the god had said clearly strikes a nerve.    
  


“Th-this kind of stuff ruins lives, Marcus. I didn’t want you to pay the price for something I fucked up on.” A cold wash of anxiety sparks against the heat in his face, sending his brain into a buzzy, frothing mess. 

  
Marcus’s face hasn’t changed, nothing about what he’s said has gotten through to him. The nymph opens his mouth but closes it, his brows furrowing even farther downwards.    
“You-” He runs a blue hand over his jaw and then under the collar of his shirt, the gears in his head turning loud enough that Cat can almost hear them. 

  
“We were in territory disputes- bar fights-  _ shootouts _ . Both of you could have been hurt- or worse.” Cat watches the terror build in the nymph as he maps out the last 9 months.    
“We rode horses. W-we slept in tents in the freezing cold- h-how could you go through that without telling me?” He’s squeezing Cat’s arm again, still no anger behind the action.   
  


Cat squints, trying to slow the tears with little success. He shakes his head.    
“I- I didn’t think you’d  _ want _ this- or- or  _ need _ it. It’s hard enough just living like we do, and we needed to make that trip.” He lets the words fade, blinking against the heat pooling in the bottom half of his vision.    
“Like I said before- if you’d  _ told _ me, we would have just risked a snitchy fence and stayed  _ here _ . Where it’s  _ safe _ for someone to be  _ pregnant,  _ Cat." 

The god lets his eyes flee to the small nymph in his arms. His little stowaway is awake, albeit barely, listening to his parents with a somehow concerned look on his chubby face. 

"I went to war with myself every day over it." He doesn't mean for his smile to seem sad but it conveys it nonetheless. 

"Everyone told me you deserved to know, and of course you deserved to but-" He sighs, moving his free hand carefully through the curly mane of black hair the newborn is sporting. 

At first, he thinks it's Marcus's genes that would have given their son curls, but as he runs a careful hand through them, all he can think of is his mother's long rusty red, curly hair. 

"I've seen how this goes." He can barely stomach looking at Marcus. He focuses instead on observing the small, sleepy bundle resting in his arm. 

"I've watched first hand how a kid can force two people into something they didn't want." 

Marcus shifts a little closer, carefully freeing his finger from his son's grasp. 

"Cat I-” He falters.

“Everyone?" His voice is soft. Close enough to spark a bout of comfort that threatens to cloud his head with sleep again. 

He can see the pink growing on the tops of his cheeks just under his eyes as he shifts uncomfortably. 

"Earlier- You said 'everyone' what do you mean?"

"I- I'm not really sure how you didn’t um…” The blush is spreading like wildfire, the tips of his ears growing warm. “Didn’t notice but from an outside view…” He gestures sheepishly between them and then down in a somewhat sweeping motion towards the remnants of the belly he’d sported. 

“This whole...situation was pretty easy to, uh, figure out.” Marcus lets out a huff of disbelief. The nymph runs a hand down his face, stopping to press his thumb and index finger into the soft space on either side of the bridge of his nose. 

“So the attendant…” Cat nods, a quiet smile quirking at his lips. Marcus sighs, “Vidalia?” Cat nods again, twirling a finger subconsciously through his stowaway’s hair once more. 

Marcus groans, gripping at the fabric along his thighs as a blush sets deep into his face. “And most of the nymphs in town, and the midwife in the next town over…” Cat rolls a hand for emphasis. Marcus looks up, brows furrowed with a curiosity he hasn’t seen in a while. “The midwife? When did you-” 

Cat rolls his neck with a shrug, trying to avoid the ever-growing frown the nymph is sporting. “I was only about 4 months along. You’d stopped across the street to meet with an old friend from your days with the law and I snuck away to ask her a few questions.” Marcus reacts with a lot more hurt than he was expecting. People visited midwives all the time, this was probably the most normal thing to happen the entire nine months. 

“I’m sorry.” 

It hangs in the air for a moment, the both of them equally surprised with the apology Cat had just blurted out. 

He takes a stuttered breath, scratching at the back of his neck because he suddenly is aware of how awkward every position he places his hands into is. 

“I knew. Before we left.” He turns away from the palpable shock Marcus is emitting. “I had time. And I still couldn't get myself to say anything.” 

  
He shifts under the terror of his right-hand man, the guilt he’s been fighting makes a sudden and violent reappearance. It leaches its way into his limbs, moving as fast as it can to his chest where it forces an ache into his heart with every beat.

  
“Abs saw me, well  _ heard _ me, in the bathroom the day we were leaving. I didn’t tell her but I’m sure she’s smart enough to put two and two together.” He sighs, hoping the ache will ease if he breathes hard enough.    
  
He pauses for a moment, giving Marcus the chance to interject. When he doesn’t, Cat grimaces and continues.   
“I wasn’t sure what you’d make of this, o-of  _ me _ .” He grips the blanket under his hand.    
  


“An-and I started thinking about what I was gonna have to do if you left, and it’s not like I have anyone that can take your place in the gang-” He takes a shuddering breath, closing his eyes against the panic he can feel begging to be released in his throat. 

“And then I realized there was no way in hell you deserved to have this just forced on you- and I was really,  _ really  _ planning on Stowaway being on time- or late at the least.”   
Marcus nods quietly, his eyebrows quirking slightly as he tries to decipher the sentences Cat’s spitting out rapidly.    
  
He can't seem to get a grip on that panic burning its way through his lungs, forcing him to gasp for every breath.

His shoulders tremble as he moves a tired hand to swipe at the tears pooling against his cheeks. 

"But i-it kind of just backfired on me-" He laughs, despite himself, his voice hiccuping as his body tries to fight against the quiet sobs. 

"Nothing even  _ remotely _ followed a sch-schedule and I just ended up dr-dragging you into it anyways." 

He blows out a shuddering breath and curls back downwards, silently cursing the hormones and the months of stress for making him such a mess. 

He takes another set of sharp inhales through his nose, trying to get the hiccupy sobbing to die down so he can formulate real sentences again. 

The mattress under him dips, and lifts back to its normal state. 

Cat's heart is in his throat as he peeks back up to find Marcus is gone. 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair before smiling sadly at the sleepy infant nestled in the crook of his elbow. Something sharp pangs in his chest, just under his sternum. 

"It'll be fine, Stowaway, don't worry." He smiles, wiping a tear off the bottom of his chin. 

"We'll be alright." 

The little nymph stretches into the warmth of Cat's body heat, making a soft, content sound before falling back to sleep. 

  
Marcus is most likely heading to the stables.    
The god can’t stop himself from picturing just how furious the nymph must be, in the quiet privacy of the stall as he grips the saddle and throws it back onto his horse.    
It was much more common, this train of thought, than Cat would like to admit. They’d been separated on missions, and just by life in general before. And every time he goes through the motions of acknowledging that he may not see his right-hand man again.   
  
Lucky for him, this time he can keep a piece of Marcus here, even if he’d prefer to have his cake and eat it too. He huffs, running a careful hand down the small, pudgy features of the newborn, determined to memorize every detail. His son shifts into his touch, sending a strange rush through Cat’s chest as his sudden role as a source of comfort is made real.

He flinches at the footsteps by the door. 

Marcus is making his way back to the pair, a large folded quilt in his hands.

He makes the bed-making process look so simple and easy, his large hands making quick work of the random creases and folds as he sweeps them carefully along the fabric. 

He takes a step back from the end of the bed and observes his work for a moment. 

Cat almost laughs when it's all ruined by the large nymph as he climbs into the space to Cat's left, carefully lifting the baby from the god's arms. 

"Lay down." That slightly comforting cadence to his voice asks Cat politely to do what his right-hand man had requested. 

So he does.

Settling down until he's laying on his side, he faces Marcus with an anxious look on his face. 

The nymph doesn't seem to notice, instead, he carefully places the bundled newborn between them on the bed. Settling down to tuck one arm under the pillow, and offering his other hand to his son.   
A smile quirks against his handsome features as the child takes his fingers without a second thought, clinging to the blue digits instinctively. His ocean blue eyes scan the child just as devoutly as Cat had done minutes ago, taking in every feature silently. 

  
For a moment they just stay like that. Nothing said or changed. The trio, just frozen in a pocket of time where nothing was ruined by what was or wasn’t done.    
Despite the darkness and calm of the room, Cat’s heart rate remains anxious, spiking with any movement or shift of either of the other two.  
  
He sighs when the infant begins to fuss in the silence, kicking and squirming against the swaddling blanket he’s wrapped in.    
Marcus props himself up, frowning slightly before eyeing the god nervously. The god sits up, carefully slipping the covers off and tensing against the inevitable cold air he knows is going to hit his skin.    
  


He blinks.    
There’s no shift in temperature, no raising of the hairs on his arms or legs.    
“Huh.” He whispers, shaking off the surprise before carefully scooping his arms under the infant and lifting him to his chest.  
  
“What are you doing?” Marcus asks. The genuine curiosity in his voice warming Cat’s face.   
“Just movin’ around. Stowaway’s so used to me pacing to get him to fall asleep that he’s not really sure what’s going on now.” He smiles as the little nymph sighs, tucking into the warm fabric of Cat’s shirt as the movement begins to work its magic.    
  
Marcus watches in silence for a moment, his eyebrows set in furrowed concentration.    
Cat pauses as the baby fusses in his arms, clearly upset with the silence of the room. He turns to the nymph watching him from the bed, casting a slightly pleading look as he opens his mouth to speak.   
“It normally works better if you’re talking.” He shrugs sheepishly as his partner raises his eyebrows in surprise.    
  


“Me?” The nymph presses a nervous hand to his chest. 

Cat nods, a tired smile pulling at the left corner of his mouth. He worries, for a moment, that Marcus may burst a blood vessel in his brain with how hard he’s thinking. The scar across his right brow bends slightly, curving down into the bridge of his nose as he ponders the situation for a moment.    
“So...all those nights where you kind of-” He juggles his hands, trying to spur the right word in his head to appear. “Patrolled, I guess, the room… it-it was because of, uhm-”   
He motions to Cat, and the bundle against his chest, with a growing blush on his cheeks.

  
The god can’t help the chuckle he lets out.   
“Yeah. I wasn’t normally the one who was restless by the end of the day.” He carefully brushes the curly mop of hair out of the baby’s face. 

“And when you’d ask me to-to talk that was for him too?”    
Cat nods again. “He was your biggest fan.” Marcus’s face softens at that comment, echoing a slight bit of pride that makes the god’s heart rate climb. “Did-” He shifts so he’s sitting up, leaning back on one hand to look at the pair across the room. “Did he, uh, move-” He rolls a wrist, the blush gaining in ferocity as his nerves seem to overtake his normally eloquent mannerisms.

“Move around a lot?” Cat tilts his head, trying to grasp what the nymph is trying to imply. “I-I just- we, uh, shared pretty close quarters and I don’t really remember…” He motions to where Cat’s belly had been, moving sheepish eyes slightly away from the god.    
“All the time.” 

Marcus nods, his brows pressing back down into his nose. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” He curves the corner of his mouth up into a nervous smile, trying in his own way to keep the apparent sadness from leaking out into the air.   
“His first kick was against your hand.”   
  
Cat’s praying this doesn’t seem like he’s rubbing salt in whatever wound Marcus is sporting. Every voice in his head is begging him to just tell the nymph everything. Ramble and spill all the weird and funny moments that happened in the 8 months he had endured.  
  
He knows it’s a horrible idea. If he tells him everything, and Marcus still leaves-

Cat shakes that thought away. 

He won’t. He  _ can’t  _ think about it.    
He knows that road. He’s been down it before, in quiet moments when the outside world is too still and his thoughts are too loud.    
It always ends with the same question, the one he  _ hates.  _

  
What if he's blown it? 

What if he couldn’t find anyone else and he’s just lost what's taken him so long to find?    
  


Cat had known who he was for a long time. 

Everything he ever did was for the people he chose to keep in his life. And when he chose to keep someone, albeit a rare event, that person normally meant the world to him.

He’d taken Abigail from her family’s estate because she’d asked him to, he’d offered her safety because it’s what he was good at. 

He’d broken Jackson out of jail because he’d been wrongly accused and sent to the chopping block. He’d provided protection because it was the only thing he knew how to do.

He’d kept the stowaway from Marcus because it would be an anchor. A weight on the nymph’s ankle he’d never be able to get off if he ever wanted to. 

This baby meant he couldn’t leave.

And that meant he’d be all the more desperate to do so. So why even tell him? Take that weight off. Open the cage he’d accidentally created and let the bird fly free.

  
He, above everything else, was protection.

If he couldn’t do anything else for anyone, the least he could do is just be there when they needed him. He was assistance, aid, in dire moments. If that meant taking on more, roles or baggage, he’d do it. It was worth it to see them happy. Safe. 

  
He was safety. Simple as that. 

Anything else he had become was just extra padding.    
  
For a long time, he hoped Marcus at least felt like he could stay. Regardless of how untameable the nymph was, that he’d think of Kill Creek- of _Cat_ , as a place he could live whenever he needed to.    
  
And now, he wasn’t sure if he was  _ anything  _ to Marcus.    
Other than a liar.    
  
  
“How is that possible? I  _ know  _ I would have noticed a kick to my hand.” Marcus has a skeptical smile on his face.    
  


Cat blinks. 

‘ _ Right, first kick. Marcus. _ ’   
“You were asleep, actually.” He quickly explains the story, skipping the mild breakdown he’d had afterward over the very idea of the nymph knowing.    
Marcus groans, running a hand over his slightly flushed face. 

  
“I think Stowaway took every possible chance he had to try and get your attention.”    
He laughs, grinning as the sleepy newborn cracks an eye open at the commotion.    
Marcus watches Cat quirk an eyebrow and mumble a hushed, ‘ _ Yeah I’m talkin’ about you kid. _ ’ before turning his head in a slight panic back to his right-hand man out of habit.    
His eyes flee back to the baby, his stomach flipping as Marcus sighs and swings his legs over the side of the bed.    
  
Cat’s confident he’s leaving. 

So much so that he doesn’t bother to check where he’s headed until he’s nearly face-planting into the nymph’s chest. His strong blue hands come up to steady the god on his feet, less panicked than the last few times he’d had to hold his leader’s weight for him.    
“You know you can just talk to him now.” Marcus is looking down at him, a sad-tinged smile against his lips as he leans down to check that the infant’s alright. Cat furrows his eyebrows, his face souring slightly. “I’m sure it’s just a habit, but he’s not really a secret anymore. You don’t have to whisper.”    
  
His throat is tightening again, that heat running back to his eyes.    
He nods, shrugging against the guilt in his throat, his eyes dropping to the floor. He can see his feet now, a little better than he could before at least. 

  
They both jump as the Stowaway in his arms reaches out and slaps an uncoordinated hand onto Marcus’s chest. Cat scrunches his face slightly, trying to fight the strange blend of happy and mournful tears trying to build behind his eyes. He exhales a surprised laugh through his nose, a lopsided smile on his face as he stares at the tiny nymph.    
Marcus seems frozen for a moment, staring in shock at the little lilac hand scrunched into the fabric of his shirt. He lets out a quiet laugh, disbelief behind it as he leans a little closer.    
  
The tiny nymph looks up, unsure of who’s in front of him. Marcus just stares, a slightly goofy smile plastered on his face as his hands squeeze Cat’s upper arms.    
He casts an unsure look to the god, worry lacing his features as he tries to figure out what the kid wants from him. 

  
Cat nods to the newborn, murmuring a quiet ‘ _ Try saying something. _ ’ before closing the few inches between them.

Marcus quirks a nervous eyebrow, taking in an awed breath before tilting his head down a little more. He falters, glancing back up to Cat and back down to Stowaway before finally opening his mouth.   
“H-hi bubba, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He trails off when Cat chuckles a quiet, ‘ _ bubba _ ’ at the nymph. But Marcus isn’t paying attention.    
He’s  _ grinning _ . 

  
A surprised laugh sends Cat’s head buzzing as the tiny blue eyes move from the god to Marcus, wriggling slightly at the familiar voice.

  
“Yeah! Hi-” Marcus laughs, his smile growing bigger with every little attentive movement the baby gives.    
Cat’s heart is in his throat, his arms are trembling as he takes a slightly shaky breath. “Cat?” Marcus’s familiarly worried tone draws his eyes back to the nymph.

  
“Sorry, just tired.”    
It’s not entirely untrue. Although the hormones are really throwing him for a loop.    
He’s not one for bouts of random pride, but right now it's surging through his veins, making his head sing. He’s not really one for outbursts of any emotion.    
But then again he wasn’t really one to have a baby either so everything’s new now.    
  
“Why don’t you lay back down, I can hold him for a minute.” Marcus says, his eyes not leaving the small baby pressed against Cat’s chest. 

  
The god hesitates.

_ 'He's here because he feels like he's obligated to. _ ' Everything Marcus has done for him so far has been stained with that thought. Red leeches into those moments, blocking any other sight from view in his head. 

It's all because he thinks he has to. 

“I-” His throat is so tight that he’s fighting just to move the air through.    
“You don’t have to be here.” He closes his eyes, his chest stuttering with the idea that he’s letting Marcus slip through his fingers.    
  
“I-if you want to go- to  _ leave _ , you can.” He blows out a breath, scrunching his eyes against the inevitable. “I’m sure Abs can help out with the kid, and I can- I can split up your share of the money-”  
  
The hands on his arms squeeze, followed by a nearly silent  _ ‘Cat _ .’ from the nymph.    
“Really, you don’t have to stay!” The fear and frustration bubble up in his voice before he can stop it. “We’ll be fine, Marcus- You shouldn’t stay just because you feel like you have to!" He takes in a slight gasp, praying that he can keep himself under control until his right-hand man leaves.  
  
“ _ Cat. _ ”   
It's much more urgent this time. A warm hand presses against his jaw, the thumb tracing up and down his cheek quietly.  
  
The god opens his eyes, terrified and shaking, but prepared for what’s next.    
Marcus’s face is only pain and sadness. His brows turned up, his ocean blue eyes stormy as they scan his leader’s tight expression. He sighs, squeezing his hand again as he tilts his head.    
  
“I know you, Cat.” He smiles, tired and hurt, but a smile nonetheless. “For the most part, I know how you think, and why.” His thumb swipes at a stray tear, wiping it gently from Cat’s freckled skin.  
  
“You have spent every chance you’ve ever gotten giving other people what they need, what they  _ want _ .” Cat lets out a trembling sigh, leaning unconsciously into the blue hand against his face. “You make it so hard sometimes-” Marcus chuckles, his voice tight enough to make Cat’s stomach drop.    
  
“For anyone else to do the same for you.” The god closes his eyes. 

"As mad as I am… I know that wouldn't have done it unless you thought you were protecting me. But-"   
There’s a pause, where Cat’s willing to let this be the rest of his life. Engulfed by Marcus with their son in his arms.

  
Instead, that hand moves, tilting the end of his jaw so when he opens his eyes, he’s met with ocean blues.

  
The stormy greys swirl in the darkness, the light of the candles outside look like lighthouses on a distant shore. Marcus’s face reflects a pain Cat isn’t willing to entirely comprehend. 

  
“I missed  _ everything _ .” His voice is tight, bordering on grief. 

It’s a whisper because they both know otherwise it would be a sob.

  
The guilt in Cat’s throat is forcing the tears out faster. His shoulders and chest send shivers through his arms as his right-hand man’s words echo against his ears.

  
“I’m so sorry.” Marcus’s voice trembles, his words spilling against the air hard enough to make the god reach up with one hand to brush a strand of the flowing water-like hair out of the nymph’s face.    
  
“Don’t. This is my fault, Marcus.” The nymph shakes his head, shutting his eyes as he seems to be fighting a losing battle against the grief. “God, you must have been  _ terrified- _ ” He whispers, his face twisting as his willpower falters. “And I wasn’t there.”    
Fear spikes through Cat’s head as he carefully brushes a tear off the soft blue skin under Marcus’s eye.    
“I couldn’t let you ruin everything you had just because I couldn’t keep it in my pants.” Marcus gives a wet laugh, his pained face relaxing slightly just for a moment.

"You don't deserve to have to make a decision like that." 

  
Marcus gives a trembling breath and opens his eyes.    
  


“You didn’t even give me a chance, Cat.” 

Cat’s chest burns, that sharp feeling returning with a vengeance. 

The god takes his hand away from the nymph's face. "I know, I'm sorry. But, Marcus-" He glances down to the curly-haired infant, a painful ache in his heart.

  
“You would have stayed. And hated me for having to.” He murmurs, tilting his head to meet the nymph’s gaze. Marcus sniffles, bringing his hand to deftly swipe at the stray tears, carefully avoiding the god’s freckled hand. 

  
“I’m not some bitter prisoner here, Cat.” Cat shifts uncomfortably under the suddenly frustrated tilt to his partner’s voice.

“I stay because I  _ want _ to.” 

  
The god’s eyes flee down again but Marcus continues. “Because the food’s good-” Cat scoffs a quiet ‘ _ that’s reassuring. _ ’ before the nymph interrupts him by returning his hand to the god’s face. 

  
“Because I  _ love  _ you, Cat.”

He pauses, watching the pink race to Cat’s cheeks. 

  
“I wouldn't trade a chance to be here with you, and him-" He turns a fond gaze to the newborn pressed against the god's chest. "For anything else."    
  
Cat inhales sharply through his nose, dropping his hand back down to the bundle in his arms. The tears pool and race in steady streams, blotting the collar of his undershirt as they roll down his chin and neck. He grits his teeth against the relieved sobs trying to make a fool out of him. 

He can't steady his breathing, it comes out in tense huffs and his fight against the tears continues to go downhill. The fear and guilt resting in his chest and on his shoulders fades until he's left with just relief.

He presses a hand against the fabric of Marcus's shirt, gasping out embarrassingly unrestrained hiccuping sobs. He tries to speak, but nothing comes out, instead, Marcus brings a hand up and gently combs his fingers through the god's black mane of hair, trying his best to help relax him.

He manages to blurt out a "Sorry- I can't r-really stop it- n-now." Through the hiccupy tears. 

Marcus smiles, carefully pulling the god as close as he can.

Cat takes measured breath, combating emotions for just a moment.   
“Dammit. I can’t stand you Marcus Rodriguez-” He chokes out, letting his head fall onto the other’s chest. There's no bite to the words.   
Marcus laughs, circling his other hand up to press into the god’s lower back.    
“Yeah well the feeling is mutual-” The laugh rumbles against Cat’s ear from just beyond the fabric of the nymph’s shirt. 

He pauses, swaying gently as he waits for the god wrapped in his arms to calm down. 

“Not telling me you were pregnant-” He sighs, and Cat can tell he’s shaking his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”    
Cat giggles, pressing his face a little harder into Marcus. “I honestly thought that maybe you’d just found out and decided not to acknowledge it.”   
Another rumble from the nymph’s chest echoes against the god’s ear, making him laugh along with him. “God no. I would not have been that calm if I had known.”    
He groans, ignoring Cat’s ‘ _ What? _ ’ before resting his chin on Cat’s head. “You  _ absolutely _ looked pregnant.” Cat lets out a genuine laugh, nodding. 

  
“I just thought, well gods are so weird and I don’t really get it so I’m not gonna ask.” Cat scrunches his face stifling a loud cackle. “We gain mass everywhere, not just one place on our bodies. And only when it’s cold.” 

  
Marcus groans out a ‘ _Yeah that's obvious now._ ’ as Cat snorts.   
  
  
“I hate to interrupt this heart to heart but I have to pee so bad-” Cat says. Marcus blurts out an ' _Oh shoot here-_ ' spurring the pair into a hasty hand off of the baby before he makes his way quickly into the on-suite bathroom.   
  
  
He stops himself at the doorway on his way back. Marcus is standing in the center of the room, rocking back and forth with Stowaway’s curly hair peeking over his broad shoulder. He’s humming something quiet, moving to the beat of a tune Cat can’t quite place.   
  
His back aches after a moment, but he can’t get himself to interrupt.  
  
Marcus turns, somehow sensing Cat’s presence. He offers a tired smile and it occurs to him that the nymph is probably exhausted.   
“I can take him, I’m sure you’re tired.” He holds his arms out, but widens his eyes in surprise when Marcus brings a protective hand to rest against the newborn’s back. He turns his hips to keep the little nymph just out of reach, earning a breathy huff from the god.   
  
“No, I’m fine.” He tucks his chin in to acknowledge the baby, smiling and raising a playful eyebrow. "We're having plenty of fun weren't we?" He nods to the tiny nymph as if his son gave a response Cat just couldn't hear.

"Why don't you lay down for a little while? Abigail's heading back with some supplies, I'm sure she'd love to see you well-rested." 

Cat settles into the bed before the sentence is even finished. 

"Wait, what supplies?" 

Marcus is barely paying attention, smiling half-lidded at the infant. "Formula, diapers, the works." It's barely an answer but Cat sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

"I, uh, bought all that stuff already." 

Marcus stops. Turning slowly to stare at the god.

He meets anxious steel blue eyes before shifting his attention back to his son.

"When?" It's a little colder than he had expected.

He scratches at a small scab on his knuckles, the side of his mouth pulling as he tries to determine how to break it to his partner. 

"Five months ago. I figured it probably wasn't magically gonna go away, so I decided to order a few things from the catalogue just in case I didn't have anyone to grab them for me." 

He waits for Marcus to respond, sweat prickling his skin when he doesn't get anything back. 

"I didn't use any of the fence money, just some stuff I'd saved over the trip." 

The nymph begins swaying back and forth again, his back to the god, only acknowledging the infant in his arms. "Well your father may be infuriating but he's certainly good at planning ahead." 

He tilts his head back to Cat, raising an eyebrow in playful judgement, "Well other than labor and delivery, that certainly wasn't one of his best plans." 

Cat snorts, crossing his arms as he leans back against the headboard. "Yeah well maybe if Stowaway had stuck to the schedule it would have gone better." 

Marcus smiles, "So  _ bubba _ gets me mocked but you’ve been calling him  _ Stowaw _ ay for 9 months and that's a perfectly fine nickname?" 

"8 months and 3 weeks." The god corrects, earning a scoff from his right hand man. "And yes? You got a problem with Stowaway?" 

Marcus holds up a hand in defeat, grinning at the fake defensiveness. 

"No, no, by all means, keep calling our son that-" 

Cat’s chest pulls with a strange shot of adrenaline. 

_ 'Our son _ ' 

He had genuinely never thought he'd hear Marcus say that, or anything close to it. 

"But do you mind if we actually name him something? Like a real, legal name?" 

Cat shrugs, feigning apathy to pull an eye roll from the nymph. 

He sobers for just a moment. 

"I, uh."

He hadn't thought of a name. 

8 months and he hadn't stopped to even  _ think _ about what his kid would be called. 

Marcus blinks at him, his eyebrows raised in surprise. He blushes, gripping at his freckled forearms when the nymph cast him a disbelieving smile. 

"You didn't come up with a name?" Cat ducks his head, embarrassment turning his heartbeat into a drum solo.

Marcus lets out a goofy laugh turning to his son with a sing-songy "Your father didn't name you~ His mother would have his hide is she were here~"

Cat groans, his ' _ god don't remind me, she's gonna lose her mind. _ ' is ignored as Marcus continues to hum happily to the infant. 

"Oh~ She's definitely going to be so mad!" He grins with raised eyebrows and gently taps his son's nose with the last two words. 

"You're in a good mood!" Abigail chirps, setting a wooden box onto the dresser. Marcus smiles at her, turning so she can access the baby better. "Cat doesn't have a name for him." He wiggles his eyebrows and Abigail feigns a shocked gasp following the nymph's lead. 

Cat smiles, content to be picked on as the pair fawns over his son. 

"For shame, Cat!" Abigail jests, grinning as she climbs into the bed beside him. He lifts his arm, letting her settle her head onto his collarbone. 

He tenses as she presses a cold hand against the slight bit of exposed skin between his shirt and boxers. 

She traces her hand carefully under the bottom of his shirt, faltering when she doesn't hit the muscular torso she's used to. 

"Sorry, the six pack's not really available right now." He says, a slightly defeated tilt to his voice. 

Abigail hadn't chosen him for his body, he knows that, but he's certain it was a factor- no matter how shallow it seemed. 

He watches in abject horror as she doesn't slide her hand back out. Instead she leaves it where it's resting, on the significantly smaller, but still very present belly pooling above his hips.    
  


He freezes, unsure of how long she'll hold out before she draws the hand back in disgust. 

The human notices his sudden lack of movement as turns her face up to him. "What's wrong?" 

He shakes his head, trying to fight the grimace that's pulling his features tight.   
  


"Sorry I just don't really know why you'd want to, uhm-" He stumbles out, the warmth in his face making him suddenly aware of how hot his whole body is. 

"I'm not exactly, uh, as-" He closes his eyes and tries to map out how he's going to put it. 

He's big. Well  _ bigger _ than he had been the last time she'd seen him. Gods were naturally taller and broader than humans, but unless there were extenuating circumstances they remained physically...perfect. As vain as that fact may sound.

He'd gone through the stages of grief months ago. Accepting the difference in weight and body type for what it was. Most likely it'd take a while to get back to any semblance of what he'd looked like before if he ever got back to it at all. 

"I'm not really built-" he clears his throat, staring ahead in hopes of avoiding showing the sincerity in his words. 

"Uh-  _ pretty _ ...anymore."   
He finishes, scratching at the sweat on his hairline, not exactly his most eloquent work but it seems to get the message across.    
  
Abigail crinkles her nose, and he realizes Marcus has stopped his humming. He can feel two pairs of eyes burning the sides of his face. The human doesn’t move her hand. Marcus takes a few steps towards the bed, gently settling onto the edge after another unbearable moment of silence.    
The nymph sets a hand on Cat’s knee, sharing a concerned glance with Abigail. 

“So, I’m not sure if you’re aware…” He leans slightly, raising his eyebrows with a sly smile.    
“But a little over 15 hours ago you had a  _ baby _ .” He lets the sentence draw out as Abigail snickers into Cat’s collar.    
“And before that, you had to  _ grow  _ that baby.” Marcus circles his wrist and Cat rolls his eyes, tilting his head back until it bumps against the headboard.    
“Which, and correct me if I’m wrong, changes a body pretty drastically-” He lets out a slightly dramatic sigh, running a freckled hand from the top of his forehead down to his chin.    
Nodding, he mutters a slightly defeated ‘ _ sure. _ ’ and Abigail giggles against his chest.    
  


“Sugar, I couldn’t care less about whether or not you’re ‘ _ built pretty _ ’ or however else you wanna put it.”

Cat groans, muttering a ‘ _ you know what I meant. _ ’ as she presses on.    
“Now I don’t speak for Mister Rodriguez but I like a little more meat on my men’s bones.” She grins as he casts a red face down and away from her.    
“Ugh, stop it.” He’s scrunching his face, covering it with his hand as she snorts again.    
“Okay, okay. But really-” She uses her free hand to trace his jaw. “I like you as is.”    
  
She throws an expectant look to Marcus, who raises his eyebrows.    
  


“What?”    
Cat smiles as she motions for the nymph to say something, knowing what ploy the human was attempting. 

  
“Hey, I told him months ago that I didn’t see a problem, and I still don’t see one.” He huffs, carefully moving to hand the infant to Cat. Abigail rolls her eyes with a smirk. “Wow, such a poet.”    
  
Marcus laughs out a playful ‘ _ Shut up _ !’ before coaxing the pair to scoot more inward towards the center of the bed. He settles in with a quiet grunt, scoffing at Abigail's quiet ‘ _ Already making those fatherly sounds, Rodriguez? _ ’ before casting a careful arm under Cat’s.    
He links their fingers together, quietly taking in the view of the trio in front of him. 

Cat feels a strange smile form as he allows his body to relax into the others. Marcus shifts slightly, pulling the group so Cat and subsequently Abigail can lean a little closer.    
They wait in the comfortable quiet for a moment before Cat giggles. Marcus gives a fond, but tired sigh.    
“What, Cat?” 

Cat can’t seem to keep his laughter under wraps, and suddenly the peace is ruined.    
“I can’t believe I didn’t think to find a name-” His sentence is interrupted with another bout of laughter, “for a baby  _ I  _ was having!”    
The laughter rumbles from Marcus’s chest and his body is shaking from Abigail’s stifled giggling. 

The exhaustion of the day finally seems to hit the group.   
  
They settle back into that silence once again.    
He sighs, staring at the tiny nymph he’s holding. 

This little thing, pointy ears and curly black hair was what he had toted around all those months. He had been terrified of him, constantly- for more than half a year. And here he was. Sleeping like nothing had happened, completely at peace in Cat's arms.    
  
Abigail smiles when he realizes he’s being watched. She squints slightly as she brings her smile up more. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you stop.” He tilts his head, shrugging as he pulls her in a little closer. “Wasn’t doin’ much anyways.”    
The human gives him a strange look before nodding her head past him.    
Marcus is blinking tiredly, clearly fighting off the comforting embrace of sleep and losing.    
Cat grins, ushering himself and Abigail inwards before carefully coaxing the nymph down.

“He stayed up with the baby when you were sleeping.” She whispers, observing the right-hand man as he sleepily tucks an arm under the pillow his head is resting on and nestles into it. Cat can’t help the fond smile on his face.    
“Of course he did.”    
She sighs, content in her position against the god. “He was so nervous, kept circling him like a vulture to make sure he was still breathing.” Cat chuckles, bobbing the human’s head along with his chest. 

That happiness falters ever so slightly and Abigail notices, setting a hand on his forearm. "You okay?"

Cat shrugs, squinting slightly at the unhappy face he can't shake. 

“He apologized to me for not being there.” A remnant of that overwhelming guilt makes his throat clench slightly. "Even though it's my fault."   
Abigail gives the sleeping nymph a pitied glance before steadying her gaze back on the god. He studies the infant for a moment.    
  
“I was so worried that he wouldn’t be here. When I got up.” His eyebrows turn up at the strange tugging sadness he can feel in his stomach. “I mean, I know you’d help. And I’m sure Sal would too, but-” He takes in a quiet breath. “I was terrified of him leaving.”    
Abigail moves her hand, weaving their fingers together and squeezing them. “He can barely stand being away from you for a week, Cat. There’s no way he’d leave.” Cat offers a sad smile.    
  
“But my mistake couldn’t be the reason he had to stay.” His smile falters and all he’s left with is the strange ache in his chest.    
“I can’t make this poor kid deal with what Sal and I did.” Abigail’s grip tightens, her breath catching.

“I can’t make either of us into a monster like my father.” 

  
“ _ Hey _ .” She pulls both of her hands away from him. One meets his jaw, and he allows her to turn his face so they are looking at each other. There are tears in her hazel eyes, her eyebrows drawn in, angry and tight.    
Her chin wobbles dangerously as she takes in a breath and presses a finger into his chest.    
“You are  _ nothing  _ like him.  _ Nothing _ . You hear me?” He nods, surprised at the sudden anger in her voice.    
  
“Good. Neither of you are going to be like him. I won’t allow it.” She sets that watery, but determined gaze on the tiny nymph and leans forward to press a careful kiss onto the lavender skin of his forehead.    
“Do I make myself clear?” 

Cat smiles, nodding with a quiet ‘ _ Yes ma’am. _ ’    
  
The infant stretches, throwing two uncoordinated arms above his head before yawning.   
“We’re gonna spoil this kid rotten, aren’t we?” He whispers.    
“I hope so.” Abigail whispers back.    
  
He smiles. “Love you, Abs.”   
“Love you too, Cat.”    
He pauses, tilting his head to Marcus.    
“Love you, Marcus.”    
The steady breathing beside him continues, and he chuckles.    
  
A slightly fussy whine from the newborn draws his attention downwards.    
“I know, I know, I was getting to you I promise.”    
He pulls the tiny nymph up until they are less than an inch apart. He bumps his nose against his son’s, grinning at the contently sleepy face he’s met with. He presses a kiss into the curly mop on the newborn's head.

"I love you, Stowaway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I'm not a very outwardly sappy person so writing this proved to be a little cathartic lol!


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